


trails of broken promises

by praziolite



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I assume this is finished idk i have crippling self esteem issues abt my work, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jake Dillinger is sad and Rich cannot help, Jake has abandonment issues, Parental Issues, The ship is not the main purpose, This is a vent, V much angst, idk how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 13:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/praziolite/pseuds/praziolite
Summary: Jake Dillinger had it all.He had the girls, he had the money, he had the perfect life. Besides the fact his parents had left, he kinda didn’t want constant girls, he had nearly used all his money and jesus christ his best friend was under the influence of some pill the entire time they talked.Jake Dillinger had an act.





	trails of broken promises

**Author's Note:**

> wow ! first fic :^) uh
> 
> ive had this ? for a while ??? and its a larger vent but i like how i wrote it . its probably bad and i literally couldnt think of an ending for it so !!! sorry !! if its not good lmao . but . i tried

Jake Dillinger had it all.

He had the girls, he had the money, he had the perfect life. Besides the fact his parents had left, he kinda didn’t want constant girls, he had nearly used all his money and Jesus Christ, his best friend was under the influence of some pill the entire time they talked.

Jake Dillinger had an act.

He’d put it on very easily, as he always did. There was no need to worry his friends. Besides, no one questions you constantly wearing a jacket even when its like 100 degrees outside, and you’re about to die. Not when you’re cool. He had a disconnect from the world. He’d walk home, and as soon as he left the grounds it was like he was let loose. He’d walk home alone, and be stuck with his thoughts and his music, and jeez his fucking depression that he, by some fucking miracle, had pills for still, despite the fact they really didn't work.

When he’d get home, he’d shake the bottle, and just watch them move. It was a habit. He never counted them, he listened to the sound of the pills hit the bottle and he’d set it down. 

He was at that point in his routine, right now.

Next he’d grab a shower, and he’d just stand there. Not in the shower, but right before, staring at the shower curtain. Why was this so hard? Why was it always this part would he get choked up, and stare, and then either skip it or force himself through it. He hated showering. He never knew if it was the memories flooding back, the ones of him with his parents when he was younger, and never knew how to wash his stupid hair correctly without getting soap in his eyes, or if it was the fact that’d he washed those memories away with scars covering his body. 

Then he’d cry. He’d cry cause he knew he’d never make any more memories with them. He’d cry because in those memories his skin was so clean, and he was so happy, and now cuts lined his arms and he was alone.  He skipped it today, pushing the towel on the counter and sighing softly. He didn’t feel like crying.

Next, right. 

He sighed, staring down at his phone, before calling Rich. He bit his lip, putting the phone to his ear, before chewing the skin around his nails. He should really repaint them. The polish was chipping and was off on a few nails. He’d do it with Rich.

“Jake!”

Jake stared at the ground, like he was trying to burn a hole in it. 

“Rich!”

He forced a happy tone, gulping. 

“Hey. Want me to come over?”

“Yeah.”

“..hey. Anything wrong?”

His voice was soft. It was like he was whispering in his ear, as if he was hugging him softly and standing on his toes to be able to reassure Jake that he wasn’t going to break. Jake would push back stupid tears and allow himself to hold Rich close and just breathe.

“Just come over.”

He curled his hand around in the fabric of his shirt, before grabbing it gently. He’d know he’d hear the quiet voice near him again, and he’d feel the hot breath against his ear and with every word he’d be able to notice the soft click of his tongue. He’d hear quiet swallows, and he’d swear he would be able to hear his lips press together tight after speaking, although it was almost silent. These things would drive him crazy, digging in his brain and staying there for him to replay and think about every time he spoke to him. 

"..Yeah..Okay, Jakey, I'll be right over."

"Okay."

"I love you."

Jake stopped, his breath hitching, tears welling in his eyes. He wiped them away quickly, swallowing a sob. "I love you too, see you soon."

He hung up the phone, licking his lips. He shook his head quickly, allowing himself to regain control of his body and not act like a robot. He opened the door, walking out from the bathroom he more or less trapped his emotions in. His emotions were always stuck in the bathroom. He closed the door listening for the quiet click, before allowing himself to rest his back against it. Rich would be there any minute. 

He lived close, and he always rode a bike down to his house so that would be thrown in his lawn. He wondered if he could listen for that. Hear the not so quiet thump before hearing the loud stomps up his stairs, and the thunder like banging on the door. He had a key, but he never opened the door. He never wanted to see things he wasn’t supposed to.

He shook his head. He decided he should eat before Rich came. Trudging to the kitchen, he opened the cabinet and stared at the near empty stock of food he had. He should really get some more. He settled on a light snack, despite the fact he hasn’t touched food since lunch, and went to his bedroom. Flopping onto the bed, he stared at the ceiling. He listened to the world. Listening was his main feature. He could zone out and just listen to the world. To the buzz and the many conversations, and he’d allow himself in drown them, and be calmed by them. Most of the time, noise makes someone’s struggle worse, but not for Jake.

That's why he loved Rich so much. He was always loud, and never allowed Jake to drown in his thoughts.

_Bang!_ _Bang!_ ** _BANG!_**

Jesus Christ. 

He stood up, leaving the food on the bed, making his way to the door. He opened it, staring down at Rich, a half smile on his face.

“Hey.”

Rich near tackled him, hugging him tight. Jake sighed quietly, closing the door, before hugging him gently. He was careful with him, as if he was made of glass. He was careful with things he cared about. 

Maybe that’s why he was so violent with himself.

Rich hopped down, lightly taking Jake’s hand. Jake stared at the wall. It was routine. So simple. 

They made themselves back to his room, Jake shutting the door with his foot, before they sat on the bed. Rich sat on his knees, in between Jake’s legs. He was close, with his head resting on his shoulder, while Jake lazily wrapped his arms around him.

Minutes passed. 

Ticking. 

They dragged.

“Jake.”

His voice was quiet, his head lifted now. His hot breath was against his neck, and Jake knew soon it would be against his ear. Routine. So simple.

“Rich.”

“...are you okay?”

Jake inhaled sharply. Did he even know?

“Mm.. no.”

He felt a light kiss against his neck. He felt as if his heart was in his throat, stuck and not allowing air to push through. He brought in a sharp intake of breath, the English language not giving him a good enough word to describe his emotions. He managed a quiet hum, as if to let him know, that god this was okay.

Was he even asking permission? Jake didn’t know, but this one action was driving him insane. 

His bleak days were always pushed up by Rich, allowing a small but bright light to push in through dark clouds. But never like this. His hands were jittery and rested against Rich’s back. His whole body was jittery.  It was as if the one action had lit a fire inside of him.

He felt more light kisses pressed on his skin, up to his ear, before he felt a very light, lighter than before even, kiss pressed against his ear. He heard the quiet voice. This wasn’t routine. This was anything but simple.

“It’s okay.”

Click of the tongue. Quiet swallow. He was falling back into the bleak, but the shots of whatever drug was in Rich’s lips was still injected in his veins. 

“I’ve got you it’s okay. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

Falling. Quicker he was falling. The break of routine was nice, but it was going back, back to things repeated to him throughout his life. Things said by his friends. His partners.

His parents.

“You are so perfect and amazing. You try your best for everyone, and you never want to hurt anyone. That’s fucking.. Cool. So cool.” 

He wanted to laugh. His way with words wasn’t always the best. But, in a twisted way of fate, he couldn’t. He couldn’t laugh. He was so close to doing something else.

“I love you.”

Tears. He was close to crying. He scrambled, pushing him away. He heard it. He heard the final closing words, right before he panicked and pushed him away.

“I’ll never leave you.”

Jake’s breathing was heavy, his hands were shaking. Rich was staring at the ground, and his heart shattered. His fault. He hurt him. He tried to help. He pushed out the bleak and made it better, and now Jake is back in it and it's his own fault. He looked up, staring at the world through blurry eyes. He felt the tears on his skin. On his face, before trailing, leaving something to follow as they hit his pants. He turned away, trying to hide himself from Rich.

“..Jake?”

Fuck.

Jake wanted to believe him. He wanted to get high off his words, and drown himself in everything he was saying. But, he didn’t.

He couldn't.

Those words were made from broken promises. Every letter in it dripped with lies, bearing a weight more heavy than Rich even knew. He would try and twist those lies into something prettier, something with a better appearance, something resembling a truth. 

Jake wasn’t blind. He knew those words could never be twisted into a perfect truth.

“..I’m sorry.”

Jake tried to speak. Say something. Fix this.

All he could produce was pathetic sobs and quiet whimpers, trying so hard to piece himself together.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks 4 reading ! im v nervous abt this . leave kudos if u enjoyed . and . stuff!


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